Prodigal
by ecat1778
Summary: AU/time travel. Elan, only daughter of Luke Skywalker, is angry, grieving, done with the Jedi. One false step in the ruins of Old Coruscant brings her to the brink of her family's story: the fall of Anakin Skywalker and the rise of the Empire. Can she change the history she's always known, or will she lose everything in the process?
1. Chapter 1

Elan

It wasn't the first time she fell.

As the dust settled, Elan shifted gingerly, wincing as one palm pressed into some of the broken glass. This fall hadn't been as long or as hard as the first time, when Jacen had been with her and had been so furious that he took away her lightsaber, as though that made some sort of difference. After the first time, she stopped telling Jacen when she was leaving for the ruins and took Cor instead. It was a twin thing, she told Jacen, who had used that same justification many times over in his own life, with his own twin, and so couldn't very well argue.

So she fell again, and again, and Cor would simply perch above the broken window or rotting floorboards or bombed-out shell of a room, waiting her for her climb back up, never saying anything about it.

Cor understood. Cor knew. Every day, he followed, silently, understandingly, as only a melded twin could. He accepted her desperate need for danger and forgetting, even if no one else did.

Elan looked up and around for the skylight she'd fallen through, feeling disoriented. There was one above her head, but the glass was unbroken. She picked a fragment out of her arm and rubbed her scraped elbow absently as she stood and looked at the shadowy walls of books around her.

"Cor," she called up. "Cor, it's a library." A library of the Old Republic. She'd been hoping to find something like this for days, to lose herself in the endless words and unvarnished history.

She brushed her fingers over the embossed covers-remnants of a time when printed books were valued over holos. The room wasn't as stale as she would expect; the books were wonderfully preserved, but the air didn't feel as though things had been sealed off properly. She heard the faint sound of a ship somewhere in the distance. She and Cor had wandered quite a ways from the settlements, so it was likely one of the massive, gasping freighters, bringing food to an almost self-sufficient colony.

She was growing fond of this New Coruscant; the bright sun and air and water and trees fighting for life as they pushed away the ruins of the old world. She might someday like this place as much as Hapes. And she liked the ruins, too; a welcome distraction, constant discovery, and a way to avoid their father on his bi-monthly trips down to the colony.

"Cor," she said again, annoyed. Cor was too often in his own space, a faraway distant point in his mind; she joined him there, sometimes, but quickly grew bored of it. He was far too passive for a Skywalker.

No answer. She shot out a mental call, a jabbing arrow that would push him off balance.

And nothing.

She felt a wild unsteadiness, wholly unfamiliar, as her mental threads flailed for something to hold on to.

"Cor," she said again, feeling panic rise in her throat. What if he'd fallen as well? He was much more careful than she was, but they were so high up, several levels from the bottom of the city.

She backed slowly into the middle of the room, squinting up into the darkness for the skylight she'd fallen through. But still she saw only the one-the unbroken glass glinting now and again as though from the light of nearby ships.

Which was silly, of course. No ships ventured into the crumbling ruins of the old city.

Taking a few deep breaths, trying to slow her heartbeat, she reached out for Jacen, to let him know something was wrong. He'd be furious, of course, but Jace was always furious with her these days.

And again, nothing. Empty air. No Cor, no Jacen. Not even her father's faint Force signature, so easy to sense even a galaxy away.

Well. Something was wrong with her, then. They couldn't all be gone. She breathed a little more easily. Perhaps Luke had finally suppressed her Force ability, what with her wild, unpredictable ways these days. Rude of him not to tell her, though.

She twitched a hand toward a shelf of books, and felt the steady, sure grasp of the Force, the certainty that she could topple every last volume to the ground if she wanted to.

There was a door to her left. She'd have to use the Force to throttle it open, since the ruins had lost power sometime during the final battles between the Rebellion and the Empire, but

It slid open as she stepped toward it, quiet and unassuming, ushering in a wall of sound that made her take two steps back.

The door had opened to a wide hall that skirted the round inner edge of the building. She looked up; the roof was open to the night sky. A cruiser descended past her, and she stepped forward to stare as it continued to drop past other levels. Levels filled with shops, bright lights, smells of food, and many, many people. In the middle of the deserted ruins of Coruscant.

Okay then. Elan suppressed the rising tide of panic and settled instead on bewildered calm. _Be rational, E,_ she heard Jacen say, a million times over a lifetime. Rational. She couldn't sense her family, and suddenly nothing around her made sense. What did rational mean right now?

She gripped the rail for a moment longer, then let go and stretched her fingers out, in, and out again. _No way but through,_ her father's voice said somewhere in the back of her mind. He'd said it the day they found out Dwen had died, said it as though she was some sort of coward for not seeing the way so clearly. The words jarred against different corners of her skull until they settled in with a bitter taste on her tongue. She pushed away from the rail and strode over to the nearest lift with a sense of purpose she did not feel. This level was empty, a forgotten mausoleum of books and gods knew what else. Answers would lie below, where the building was full of light and life and music.

The lift slid down with a hiss and a slight flip in her stomach. Elan pressed a level at random and braced a hand against the wall when it came to a stop. She stepped out, and gritted her teeth against the madness-vendors flying at her with krats and figs and some kind of sausage-bodies milling shoulder to shoulder, pushing past her-a human child slipping through the crowds with outstretched fingers-

She flicked him away and felt amused at the disappointed look on his face. He vanished behind a bearded man in a long, brown robe who turned cool eyes upon her before stepping into one of the shops.

That robe. The robe, and the tunic, and the belt-something nagged at the back of her brain, a feeling that she recognized the outfit. Some particular religious cult?

Elan felt a subtle nudging against her collarbone, and slight twist in her stomach. She tried to ignore the Force as much as possible these days, but she supposed she needed all the help she could get right now. She followed the man into the shop.

It was a Net cafe, or as close to one as she could figure. The equipment was outdated, but well cared for, and most of the cubicles were filled, closed off from the prying eyes of any who might step in. The man in the robe stood near the front counter, a serious expression on his face, by all appearances interrogating the clerk. Elan stepped behind him, as though waiting in line, as though she didn't see the second clerk glancing at her from the end of the counter.

The man in brown immediately stopped speaking and turned to look at her, with a milder expression than she expected. "You need to seek help elsewhere," he said, and she felt an annoying push against her brain. For a second she stared at him, mouth slightly open. _No one_ tried Force suggestion with a Skywalker. That was just insulting.

Wait. Force suggestion?

She forced a smile and a nod and stepped away, keeping her head down. The old Jedi used to wear brown robes, and uncomfortable tunics, to remind them of their low position. But no Jedi wore them anymore. Her father's new Order was free of the legalism and oppression of the old Order. So why was this man, this man who used the Force so casually, wearing old Jedi robes?

She grabbed a time card and slid into an open cubicle, then closed her eyes and settled in to listen. She let the Force slide across the floor and create a magnifying wall around the man, amplifying his words back to her.

"...but are you sure?" he said, his voice slightly tinny in her ears. "You said there was suspicious activity just yesterday. And now there's nothing?"

The clerk's voice was low, nervous. "Perhaps I saw wrong. Nothing out of the ordinary."

The man sighed. "Who got to you?"

She heard shuffling. "No one, sir," the clerk said in a flat tone. "Please. Stop looking for him."

The Force wall wavered slightly as the man walked through it, back toward the door. Elan heard him pause just after he hit it; confused, uncertain as to what had just happened. She let the wall dissipate and slid her time card in the Net station. The date and time popped up on the screen, and she stared, calculating backward in her mind, then jumped at a knock at the edge of the cubicle.

She took two quick breaths, blinked at the date again, and then said, "I just got in here" as she slid the curtain open slightly.

The bearded man was standing there in a restful sort of way, hands crossed in front of him, eyes still mild, but curious this time.

"I was short with you earlier," he said. "I apologize."

Elan tried to slow down her racing mind, the date and the robes and the ancient equipment all colliding to make some semblance of sense. She'd stupidly-_stupidly_-put up a very obvious amplification wall around an Old Order Jedi of unknown powers, failed to react properly to his Force suggestion, and had no grounding, no identification, no connections in _gods sixty years ago_ to get rid of him quickly and without suspicion.

"It's rude to bother someone at a Net station," she said, throwing up airtight seals around her mind, suppressing any hint of Force ability. He was muted to her in the Force now, but hopefully she would be obliviously, invisibly normal to him if he decided to check.

He smiled, a wry quirk of a smile, and bowed slightly. "Again, I apologize."

She tapped her fingers on her leg, trying for an air of impatience she assumed someone would feel in this situation if they'd done nothing to cause it. The man seemed to recognize it, and fall for it; a sheepish look passed across his face. "Forgive me," he said. "There was something...odd...that just happened. I thought-well, I don't know what I thought. Pay me no mind."

He reminded her, in a sideways fashion, of Jacen, and the thought made her relax a little.

"Well, Master Jedi," she said airily, "if you don't mind...?"

He bowed again, quickly, still looking confused, as though he knew he was missing something vital. "Yes. Yes. Sorry. Again. Master Kenobi." He held out a hand awkwardly, and she tried to ignore the jolt in her stomach as she shook it.

"Elan," she said. "You know, the least you could do is pay for my time card." Obi-Wan bloody-hells-and-gods Kenobi. What gall she had.

He smiled, shrugged, and waved toward the clerk. "On the tab," he told him.

The Jedi had a tab at a Net cafe? Bizarre.

"Calling home?" Master Kenobi asked as the clerk activated more time on her card.

Home. Where was home? She considered a moment, then nodded. "Home, yes. My husband's family. Mine is...hard to reach."

Master Kenobi's eyes narrowed slightly, as though he found even that innocuous bit of information fascinating for a reason he couldn't pinpoint. "Well, a good day to you, Elan." And he walked away. Elan watched, a hollow, stunned feeling creeping through her arms as the Jedi Master her father worshipped slipped out the door and disappeared into the crowd.

Feeling a bit disoriented, she slowly slid the curtain shut and slipped the time card into the slot again. It took a few minutes to figure out how to pull up the intergalactic connection. Gods she hoped the codes for Hapes hadn't changed.

She realized after a few moments that she was shaking. Of all the places in this world, in this time, she was here, and the first person she met was Obi-Wan Kenobi. The thought terrified her. It felt strangely like an ordered destiny, like the first mission she'd gone on with Jacen, or the day she'd met Dwen.

She quickly discarded the idea and forced her hands to still. Destiny, fate…she'd tossed all belief in them aside the day Dwen's ship flashed in deepspace.


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan

Uneasy. That was the best name for the feeling. First the mysterious shift in Prav, who'd for so long fed him information about the Separatists' use of the Net. Someone had gotten to him, of course. Prav had been so eager to help the Jedi, to keep the Republic safe in whatever small way he could, and now...

_Stop looking for him._

And then there was that frighteningly powerful Force trace in the room. Obi-Wan had never felt anything like it. Was someone watching him? Listening to him? Warning him? It'd felt a bit like walking into a wall, a wall that vanished quickly as soon as he turned around to investigate.

Yes, it had to be someone close by.

That Elan girl made him uneasy, and he could explain that even less than all the other things. She was a pale, tiny thing, all fragile bones and wispy blonde hair; hardly someone to cause trouble, but yet he felt tremors in the Force around her at first. He'd been impatient when he tried to push her away with Force suggestion; had he merely imagined her widening eyes, the sense that she was shocked he'd attempt such a thing? But there'd been no Force awareness when he went to find her again; she was thoroughly out of touch with the Force, come to think of it, compared to most.

Was that odd, or was he making something of nothing?

He put a hand to his aching head and closed his eyes against the speeder lights shooting past the window of the taxi taking him back to the Temple. The Alliance was running out of time and resources. Bail Organa was convinced there was something far deeper than even the civil war, some motive they hadn't yet uncovered, but every time Obi-Wan felt he was getting close to something, the lead vanished. The Alliance couldn't tell the Chancellor, of course, what with the fears of a Sith Lord lurking somewhere near him. The Alliance wasn't supposed to know that, technically-the Jedi Council was keeping it quiet-but Obi-Wan had decided that the Alliance was taking the undercurrent he sensed of _something big_ much more seriously than either the Chancellor's office or the Council.

What if that had been a Sith in there today, the power behind that Force wall? Obi-Wan felt a little cold. Why didn't it do anything? Why only lurk in the shadows? Surely the Order was weak enough now that taking out one Jedi would cause only panic without retribution.

What were they waiting for?

The night closed in around the Temple as he approached, the last glimpses of the sun vanishing over the horizon. Mace was waiting for him on the landing pad.

"Where's Anakin?" Mace's dark eyes were narrow, his mouth tight.

Ah, the endless question. Not _where have you been?_ which would have made more sense. No, somehow Obi-Wan had earned unconditional trust, and used it by doing what the Council would certainly deem traitorous. But Anakin...

"I believe he was going to make some rounds at the Chancellor's office," Obi-Wan said, which seemed to be a safe answer. After all, Mace was the one who wanted Anakin there, wanted him spying on the Chancellor. Anakin probably wasn't there-because when did Anakin ever go where he was told?-but Obi-Wan didn't dare voice his actual suspicions. Anakin, in all his brooding and unpredictability, sometimes felt like the last friend Obi-Wan had in the Order, and he was not going to help the Council kick him out.

"He's not there," Mace said, following him inside and down the steps to the great hall. A few lanterns still burned, casting ghostly shadows against the wall, but most of the Temple had retreated to research studies or long-awaited rest.

"Then I have no idea." Obi-Wan thought of the ancient parable-_am I my brother's keeper?_-and bit his tongue.

Mace grabbed his arm and stopped him in the middle of the hall. "You are unsettled. Why?"

Why indeed? Because of an encounter with a strange Force power, or the way the Separatists seemed to be two steps ahead of him, or perhaps Senator Amidala's increasingly loose clothes, poorly shielding a growing belly? None of the answers would satisfy Mace.

"I met a woman today," Obi-Wan said finally. "I do not trust her, and I don't know why."

Mace raised his eyebrows. "Listen closely to the Force, Obi-Wan. Sometimes it speaks to us best from unexpected places."

One woman in a city of billions. He'd never see her again. But he nodded, stepped away from Mace, and went down the dark hall to his rooms.


	3. Chapter 3

Elan

The Net cafe became a shadowy, furtive place in the late hours; people spoke in hushed tones and ducked their heads as though to hide as they moved through the room. Elan was getting increasingly frustrated with her failed efforts to reach Hapes. She knew they'd been distant from the Old Republic, but she'd never thought any developed system could be _unreachable._

She was trying a signal routing through Tatooine when the cold swept through the cafe.

It was a brittle cold, the kind that ate at her bones, and she felt her shields creep up almost unconsciously. This cold, she recognized. She'd been around Sith before, though never in such a public place-any known Sith in her time had been imprisoned for ages.

Her time card clicked out of the holo screen, and she reached for it, hesitated, then took it and opened the curtain. A man in a dark cloak stood at the counter with one clerk; she waved her card at the other.

"I need a recharge," she said, going up to stand a comfortable distance from the cloaked man. He glanced over at her; a pointed face, all sharp bones and angles, softened not at all by a white beard and hollow eyes.

And she decided to risk it. _What the hell. _

"You're the one they're looking for," she said, giving him a smile she hoped was unreadable, mysterious. His nostrils flared, and she saw his left arm twitch beneath his cloak-reaching for a lightsaber?

She held her hands out. "I am unarmed." Damn Jacen and his blasted insistence that she should give up her lightsaber in "such an emotionally volatile time." "But you would do well to be wary of me."

He stared a moment, then began to laugh; a low, deep, humorless sound.

"Foolish child," he said, in a voice that seemed to resonate from beneath the floor. "You have no idea what you toy with."

She considered him a moment. She didn't know much about the other Sith in this time beyond Palpatine. But she was third-generation, and they did know for certain that third and fourth-generation Skywalkers were infinitely more powerful than any Jedi from the Old Order-so, it stood to reason, infinitely more powerful than any adversary from that time.

Elan smiled again, feeling the tightness in her muscles. It was idiotic to pick a fight with a Sith here, when she had no backup, no place to run. But she was at her core a Skywalker, a daughter of the Jedi, and this man was part of the movement that would try to wipe out her family. She took a step closer to him, feeling the dangerous Skywalker darkness creep into her fingers.

She knew what would scare him most. What scared any Force wielder most.


	4. Chapter 4

Dooku

The girl was more than she seemed. That he knew instantly. Dooku looked past the tiny frame and messy hair and tired bruising beneath her eyes and felt a hint of power. He didn't know how deep it went, and he knew she was no Jedi. There was too much darkness here, and she wasn't the least bit afraid of him.

Which either made her a fool, as he first thought, or something else entirely.

He needed to tread carefully here.

Dooku held up a hand. "Perhaps we started off on the wrong foot," he said slowly. "Please-let us speak somewhere more private." He waved to the petrified clerk who had only yesterday spared his own life by swearing to turn on his Jedi masters. Idiot Kenobi. As though finding one of Dooku's connection points was crucial to winning a war he didn't even know he was fighting.

The girl followed him into a back room; soundproofed, he knew, for some of the cafe's more illicit activities. A perfect place to handle an unknown such as this one.

She crossed her arms and leaned against a cool metal wall as he closed the door. There was curiosity in her eyes, and he indulged her.

"Count Dooku," he said, folding his hands in front of him and waiting for her reaction.

The look she gave him was blank; raised eyebrows and all but a shrug.

"I'll need a bit more than that," she said. "You're a Sith, but what else?"

Good gods. Who was she, that she didn't know who he was? The whole of Coruscant was put on daily alert for him. The Jedi-turned-Sith who headed up the Separatist movement, the reason they all believed this war was happening...

"You're joking, right?" He didn't know what else to say. She wasn't joking, he knew. She wasn't playing the fool. She literally had no idea who he was.

"So you're important, and I've wounded your pride." She smiled, the same dangerous smile as before. "You must forgive me, Count. I'm new around here."

He hesitated a moment, then decided to reach out through the Force and read what exactly he was facing.

And he felt suddenly, horribly suffocated. Her presence in the Force made the air thick, seized his lungs with fear he hadn't felt for decades.

She _was_ something else entirely. No Jedi, for certain, and no Sith he knew of.

The girl flexed her fingers, then tightened them into a fist, and he felt a horrible pressure on his arm. He tried to fight it off, but his efforts were like that of a flailing child against a wall.

"It is the greatest fear of all who use the Force," she said, in an even tone. "Not being able to be in control. Being controlled by another. So casually do we use our own power, that the idea of someone exerting power over us is...unthinkable."

She could break his arm if she wanted to. She could crush his heart, tear out his lungs, twist his neck, all from across the room. This girl needed no lightsaber to defeat Count Dooku, the Sith who had bested both Obi-Wan Kenobi and the so-called Chosen One. She could tear this city apart with her mind if she were so inclined.

"There is much for you," he heard himself say. "Darth Sidious can give you power, can make you one of us-"

"Oh gods, why would I want to be a Sith?" She took two steps toward him, and though her words were light, he knew by the edge to her tone that he'd said the absolute worst thing possible. He felt a pressure on the back of his head, somewhere beneath the skull, and then-

Nothing. Her presence in the Force vanished. The air was clear again. He could breathe, and the pain in his arm ceased. She stepped back against the wall, looking grimly satisfied.

"You will not remember who I am," she said, and immediately he could not see. "You will not remember how this moment came to be," a voice said, but he could not put a sound to the words. "And you will tell Palpatine that his reckoning has come."

The door opened. The voice was gone.

And Dooku could not find the Force.


	5. Chapter 5

Obi-Wan

"We have him."

That was the only thing Bail said, and for a moment Obi-Wan, in a vague place between sleep and wakefulness, could not fathom who he meant.

When his mind did catch up, he doubted he'd heard Bail right. There was only one _he_ they did not need to name. Dooku was the heart of the Separatist movement, the symbol of all they were fighting against; he had ceased needing a name long ago.

But that could not be who Bail was talking about. No one could capture Dooku, except for perhaps a Jedi, and Obi-Wan was the only Jedi actively looking.

Unless Dooku wanted to be captured.

That thought made him sit up and switch on the light.

"Dooku is there?" The words felt tight in his throat as he imagined Dooku sitting placidly before the leader of the Alliance, coiled in wait for the best moment to tear him apart.

He could hear only Bail's breathing for a few moments.

"One of our contacts saw him wandering the streets as though he'd never been here before. The guards brought him in. No resistance."

"Bail..." Obi-Wan hesitated. Bail Organa was no fool, and Obi-Wan hated suggesting such a thing-but this, this was foolish, thinking Dooku was not up to something.

"Wait until you see him," Bail said. His voice was tinged with wariness, and a bit of wonder. "Obi-Wan, he is...he seems lost."

The flight to the Aldaaranian housing seemed interminably long. Obi-Wan was less careful than usual, leaving the Temple. He didn't have the time to blind the codes to whatever shuttle he took. If the Council wanted to know what took him away in the middle of the night...well, perhaps, impossibly, he could bring them Count Dooku as a reason.

The door to Bail's main conference room slid open silently, and Obi-Wan saw the flash of white hair behind a wall of guards. Bail stepped out of the shadows and motioned him through.

Dooku looked up at him, leaning forward heavily on his elbows, his eyes dark and hollow with a sort of fear.

"It is gone, Master Kenobi." That voice, always so vast and deep, seemed to break and scratch as it made its way out. He stared at Obi-Wan as though he had the answer, as though he were, somehow, his savior.

Obi-Wan sat down across from him, and he knew now why Bail was no fool. This was a broken man before him. A lost man.

"What is gone?" Obi-Wan asked, looking at the wrinkled skin around Dooku's eyes and seeing his age for the first time.

Dooku flung his hand out, and Obi-Wan immediately threw up his Force shields, and...

Nothing.

Dooku made a fist with the hand and pressed it against his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut in pain.

"It. Is. Gone."

And suddenly it was clear to Obi-Wan.

Dooku could not access the Force. Could not feel it. Could not use it. Without the Force, Dooku saw himself as nothing, no one. No wonder he had been found wandering the streets. Without the Force, he was truly lost.

How did one lose the Force? The thought made Obi-Wan cold, an icy grip on his heart.

"What happened?" he asked, and wondered if this was a warning from the Sith Lord, a terrible omen that _this, I can do to you too_.

Dooku shook his head, and Obi-Wan saw welling tears reflecting the pain. "I do not remember," Dooku said. "I remember...I went to meet with a source, but I do not remember which one. I remember meeting someone, and being afraid, and realizing that I did not fathom power until that moment. I remember feeling the Force being shut off, as though it were a switch, and I remember being told that I would remember not a face or a voice or a place. I would be doomed to wander without knowing, without the Force to guide me." He placed both fists in front of him and stared up at Obi-Wan with a fevered intensity. "_What kind of power can do this?_"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You are sure it was not your master?"

Dooku made a scoffing noise. "Sidious? Force, Kenobi, I know my own master. I know what he is capable of-and it is more than any Jedi-but _this_ is worlds beyond what he could dream. I reached out, and the Force was thick as water and melded to the will of the one who stood before me. I angered that one. I suggested joining my master, and it was a fury I have never known in response."

Well. That was...perhaps in their favor. Sure, an unimaginably powerful Force user was somewhere on Coruscant, but that Force user apparently loathed the Sith.

It could just as easily loathe the Jedi too, though. Perhaps this was something outside of the realm of both.

"You don't remember where you were? Or where you were going?"

Dooku furrowed his brows, the lines in his forehead deepening.

"It was...an agent recently turned. One that...worked with you, I think, until..."

Prav? Undoubtedly there were many agents turned every day, but the name jumped to his mind. It was in Dooku's nature to attack Obi-Wan where it hurt most.

"Was it Prav? At the Net cafe?" Obi-Wan hoped his questions would help Dooku find a way around whatever Force block was strong enough to hold his mind.

Dooku stared at him. "I-maybe."

Obi-Wan looked over at Bail. "I sensed something there today myself; I thought a Sith was watching me, but now I wonder if this other power was just waiting there for Dooku. I pray it is on our side, since it went for Dooku and not me."

Bail ran a hand through his dark hair, and Obi-Wan wondered when so much gray had appeared. "You didn't see anyone who stood out?" Bail asked.

Obi-Wan hesitated. The girl, the one who made him uneasy; but he would have sensed Force power coming from her, and he felt nothing like what Dooku described...

"No," he said. One woman in a city of billions. "But we should alert the Council. I'll take Dooku to our holding cells. The Chancellor should not know we have him, because we can't risk the Sith Lord knowing his state. We may have an unknown ally, or a terrible enemy. I'd like to hold our cards close until we know which it is."

"Darth Sidious should not know," Dooku agreed, and Obi-Wan suddenly doubted everything he'd just decided on. Dooku shook his head, a slight smile on his face. "I am not manipulating you. I am being honest. There is no good outcome if he knows. He would accelerate the war, to the detriment of his cause and yours, or he would tear this city apart to find this Force power, and open himself up to discovery. Our purposes align here. We have a common enemy. For Master Kenobi, you must consider this one an enemy, no matter how much you may wish to find a friend. I know darkness when I see it, and this is darkness like neither of us has ever known."


	6. Chapter 6

Elan

The connection to Hapes would not go through. And sleep would not come, crowded away by murmuring questions: _What am I doing? How did I get here? How do I get home? _She lay her head down on the desk, then sank slowly to the floor and lay sideways. A breath in, a breath out. _Clear your mind_, her father's voice said. _Focus._

"What is the purpose of your connection?" A different voice faint, impatient. She felt vaguely as she stood to look at the monitor that it was likely not the first time the man on the screen had asked the question. Dull light from the cafe crept in through the corners of the curtain behind her. It was the middle of the night, after hours of waiting for the interminable connections to somehow get her to Hapes.

"Hapes?" She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

The man's eyes became narrow, the polite Hapan's disdainful expression. Elan smiled at him, feeling a warm sense of home in the face of his frigid welcome.

"Thank the gods," she said, feeling a little fervent. "I need to speak to the Queen Mother."

The man's expression turned to stone. "That is not possible."

Elan waved an impatient hand. "Fine-do you need the royal codes?" She punched in a series of numbers, the Queen Mother's personal identifier for as long as she could remember. It could have changed, of course, but only the royal family ever knew it, and so there was no real point. She had to be right.

And she was, she thought, smiling as the man's eyes widened imperceptibly as he glanced down at the screen before him. He looked back up at her.

"With all due respect..." he said, his tone cautiously respectful. "Who might I say is calling?"

"The great-granddaughter of her royal highness Ni'Korish Chume." Elan had never met Ni'Korish Chume, though she knew she'd been the source of Ta'a Chume's hatred of the Jedi. But Ta'a Chume had liked Elan. She was just grey enough, blurring the lines between Jedi and princess and politician, that Dwen's grandmother had found her intriguing. She prayed Ni'Korish would do the same.

The man was silent a moment, a closed, thoughtful expression on his face. Ni'Korish, of course, did not yet have any great-granddaughters; but Hapans were a superstitious people, and believed that the spirits of their ancestors and descendants yet to come watched over them. She had nothing but the royal codes, and a claim too impossible to be used by a sane person-would it be enough?

"One moment, Princess," he said finally, inclining his head. "A name I may give the Queen Mother?"

"Elanamai Chume," Elan said, the knot in her chest unclenching a little.

"Favored one," he murmured as he pressed a button for the connection.

The screen blurred slighted, and Elan's stomach churned. Hapan Queen Mothers were a fearsome lot; even Tenel Ka had a steel to her that made Jacen wary at times.

The transfer snapped into focus. Elan recognized Ni'Korish from the palace portraits, though in this time she was in the height of her loveliness. Her hair was white, and had been since she was young, but her face was still unlined, the genetic blessing of Hapes. She was in her casual robes, sitting in what Elan assumed was her bedchamber. Elan had never seen a Queen Mother in such a relaxed state.

Elan took a breath, swallowed, and then put her hand to her shoulder and bowed her head. She couldn't do a full bow in this small Net cube, but she hoped Ni'Korish would get the idea.

"Elanamai Chume." Ni'Korish's voice was wry, amused, and only faintly wary. "Tell me, daughter of a granddaughter I do not yet have, how is it you have come by our codes?"

"Actually," Elan said, smiling faintly, "I'm the wife of the son of the granddaughter you do not yet have."

Ni'Korish's eyes, heavy-lidded and dark, narrowed. "You have not answered me."

Elan shook her head. "That is because I do not know the answer. I was exploring the ruins of Coruscant with my brother, and I fell, and when I stood...the world had changed." She took a deep breath. "I know it sounds impossible, out of reason, Queen Mother. I cannot offer you any proof. I have been trying to reach Hapes for hours now, because I know not where else to turn. My own family is..." She paused, trying to decide if there was any way to put it that would not cause Ni'Korish to despise her. "Nomadic," she said finally. "We are powerful in the new government that exists in this galaxy"-she watched Ni'Korish's eyebrows raise-"but we are wanderers by nature; without a single place we call home. That is, until I married Dweneth, son of Isolder, son of Ta'a Chume. We have always been friendly with Hapes-my cousin is now the Queen Mother's consort-but it was not until I married Dwen that I found my home, that I felt so loved and welcomed by such a people."

Ni'Korish clasped her fingers together, thoughtful. "You have a Hapan name."

Elan smiled. "My mother chose it during one of her visits with the Queen Mother. She found it beautiful, and wanted to honor our friendship with Hapes."

Ni'Korish was silent a moment, her eyes drifting to something Elan could not see. Then, suddenly, her gaze shot back to Elan's face. "Reach out to me. Reveal yourself," she ordered. Elan stared, uncertain if she'd heard her right. Ni'Korish tapped a finger to the side of her head. "I see that your powers are strong. If I am to know the truth of what you speak, you must let me in."

Elan felt a shudder of shock go through her. "You...you are a Force user?'

Ni'Korish waved her hand dismissively. "The Jedi try to claim such powers as their sole property. It is not, as you and I know."

"That's why you hate the Jedi?" Elan asked, a bit wonderingly. "Because they would label you an enemy for something you possess naturally?"

Ni'Korish's face relaxed a bit at her words-Elan had said the right thing, finally.

"I prefer to be their enemy on my own terms," Ni'Korish said.

"Well then," Elan said, raising a hand in warning, "you must know something before I lower my shields."

"You are a Jedi?" Ni'Korish seemed unsurprised.

"After a fashion. The Order...was destroyed, and has been made new. It is quite different, but I still do not trust the Jedi, myself. I left it..." _when Dwen died_, she thought, the words dying on her lips.

Ni'Korish said nothing, but watched her closely. Elan felt a wavering sense of fear as she dropped her mental shields and willed the Force to aim a call through star systems, across planets and into the room on the screen before her. Every Jedi on Coruscant would know she was here with a stunt like this-every Sith, too. Even with her efforts to shield it from anyone but the Queen Mother, such a powerful, direct connection would reverberate through the Force. And the Queen Mother had offered her no assurances of safety, belief, or help. But Elan had nowhere else to go.


	7. Chapter 7

Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan jolted out of his fitful sleep, gasping for breath. The presence he'd felt earlier was suddenly stabbing at his subconscious-from a distance, perhaps, but with such intensity that he could hardly breathe.

Gulping down air, he pushed himself up and reached over to press the alarm that would wake the members of the Council currently in the Temple. Surely they would sense it too.

Yoda was the first to arrive, bright eyed, a considering expression on his face. He'd probably been awake all night.

"Do you feel it?" Obi-Wan asked without preamble.

"Guide me closer, you must," Yoda murmured, closing his eyes and reaching out his hand. "Sense it, I do, but distantly, as though hidden it is."

Obi-Wan grasped the ancient Master's hand and pulled his mind down into the vast depths that was the alien Force presence. Obi-Wan heard faint footsteps as Mace entered the room, then Ki-Adi-Mundi; their presences latched onto his mind and followed him into the deep. The four of them sat in a circle, enveloped in a tense stillness.

"Is it the Sith Lord?" Mace asked, his voice tight.

"It may be _a _Sith," Obi-Wan said, opening his eyes. "But this is an utterly new presence. I think it is not the one we have been hunting." He paused, trying to decide if he should reveal what he knew.

Yoda looked up at him, a knowing look passing across his face. "More, you know."

The others looked at him as well. Obi-Wan crossed his hands.

"This is a danger we have never known," he said slowly. "Masters...I told you that Bail Organa had captured a valuable asset, an asset I removed to our cells, and that I would brief you on it in the morning..."

"This asset knows of the presence you just showed us?" Mace asked, more calm than Obi-Wan would have expected.

"Count Dooku," Obi-Wan said, and waited. Ki-Adi-Mundi's eyes widened, but Yoda and Mace looked unsurprised.

"Suspected, I did," Yoda said.

"But how was he captured?" Mace asked, the faint eagerness in his tone suggested he'd been longing to ask Obi-Wan this since he mentioned the asset a few hours before.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Too easily. He has lost his ability to sense and use the Force."

Silence.

Finally, Yoda said, "Impossible, that is."

"I have seen it for myself," Obi-Wan said. "Someone took it from him, or blocked him from accessing it, and then commanded him to forget all he had seen. I believe it is this presence we feel now. I sensed it earlier myself, though I did not understand the significance of it at the time."

Mace was staring at the ground. "The woman? The one you did not trust?"

"I don't think so," Obi-Wan said, too quickly, and he wasn't sure why. "I scanned her thoroughly. She has no Force ability."

"No Force ability to speak of, or no Force ability?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked quietly. "One who could take away another's ability to use the Force would certainly be capable of hiding themselves from a Jedi."

"If you also crossed paths with this person, why are you safe and well?" Mace asked, dismissing Ki-Adi-Mundi's words with a wave of his hand.

Obi-Wan felt a wry smile cross his lips, unbidden. "Because Dooku had the audacity to try to recruit her-him-whoever as a Sith. It is possible, though not certain, that we have a powerful ally."

"But dangerous," Yoda said in an even tone. "No right does any creature have to take away the will of another."

No one brought up the girl again-_Elan,_ she'd told him, and he wondered if that really was her name-but Obi-Wan knew he had to find her. But-the Force whispered somewhere in the back of his mind-for some reason, he needed to...protect her? The idea could not be dislodged.

_She is important,_ he thought, and cursed himself for not understanding it earlier. He'd be so focused on Dooku, and the Separatists, and the Sith, that something vitally important had been before him and he hadn't done a thing. _Important for what?_ No answers came.

And then the presence disappeared, as though it had never been there.

"Hidden again," Yoda said softly. "Why appear for such a short time?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said. "But I'm going to find out."


	8. Chapter 8

Elan

"I'm not particularly pleased that you're associated with the Jedi," Ni'Korish said, in a tone so casual and light that Elan almost missed the undercurrent of a fear underneath. _She's afraid of me?_ Elan thought, feeling amused until she remembered that no one here had seen anything like a Skywalker before. Except for Anakin. And she had no idea what he was capable of.

"I'm not either," Elan said, letting amusement creep into her voice. Ni'Korish blinked, smiled faintly, and reached out as though to touch the screen.

"I have seen the truth of who you are," Ni'Korish said, and Elan felt a wash of relief. "And I will grant you the protection of our name in this time and place. You shall be known as my daughter-in-law, the wife of a son who died too young, as our Dwen did."

_Our Dwen._ Elan's heart ached.

"You are gracious and kind, Queen Mother," she said softly. "I cannot express the joy I have at being claimed by family in such a strange place."

The woman sat back in her chair, sweeping her white hair behind one ear. Behind her, sunlight had started to filter through the curtains; dawn in Hapes, Elan thought, longing for the warm, golden beauty.

Ni'Korish seemed to read her face and smiled gently. "Do you wish to come home?"

Elan felt something in her stomach constrict painfully. "Very much. But..." The Force was prodding at the back of her mind. "But...Queen Mother...something is happening here. Something that will change the entire galaxy. I cannot simply stand by and watch."

Ni'Korish nodded. "The Sith Darth Sidious."

Of course she knew. The Queen Mother had spies everywhere.

"He will try to destroy my family in the days to come," Elan said somberly. "If my knowledge of timewarps is correct, this world is different from my own, a parallel place. Any change I make here will not change my life in my world and time, if ever I can get back there."

Ni'Korish closed her eyes briefly. "As the ruler of Hapes, I see no gain in saving this rotten Republic."

"As the ruler of Hapes," Elan said, leaning forward, feeling a passion she hadn't known in months, "you would be lauded as the savior. You are already so powerful in your own realm and the minds of the people of the Republic. But you are not loved by the people here. Imagine if you were to save the Jedi, are magnanimous toward those you hold no love for. There is great power in being seen as the one who chooses who lives and who dies. You would be seen as the one who sanctions the future direction of the Republic."

"I cannot be manipulated," Ni'Korish said, but she was smiling. "Elani"-Elan hadn't heard the diminutive, familial version of her name since she was a child visiting Ta'a Chume-"you have more cunning than any of my own children. Would that you were the next queen of Hapes."

"I think you will find Ta'a more than up to that task," Elan said.

Ni'Korish raised her eyebrows. "Is that so? My daughter seems so quiet and small."

"She scared me as a child, for a little while." Elan was surprised at how much she missed Dwen's fierce, intense grandmother. "But she showed me love that I did not expect. She liked me more than anyone else in my family. But never fear, Ni'Korish. She is strong. She will be a powerful Queen Mother."

"I am glad to hear it," Ni'Korish said. "Well, my Elani, we will speak again in coming days. For now, go to the Hill and find the statue of the ancient gods. You will be met there and taken to a home I will provide you; Hapes' mourning princess, in self exile as she grieves."

Elan bowed her head, feeling overwhelmed. "You are good and great, Queen Mother. I will honor you here."

"It would be in your best interest to do so," Ni'Korish said, very quiet. There was a threat there, but one Elan and Ni'Korish both knew the Queen Mother could not enforce. Not now that Ni'Korish knew what she was capable of. The Queen Mother was placing great faith in her. Elan knew that what was to come would not make Ni'Korish happy, but Elan hoped she could spin it enough to keep her as an ally in this strange place.


	9. Chapter 9

Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan hadn't slept. He'd stayed awake after the other Masters left, alternately meditating and listening, waiting for the strange Force presence to appear again. But nothing. Hours on end of nothing.

He was meditating in the warmth of first light when his doors slammed open, followed by the whirling storm of emotion that was Anakin Skywalker.

"Have you heard?" Anakin demanded.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. "About Dooku? Yes, I was the one who brought him in."

Anakin stared. "Wh-what? Dooku, captured? Gods, Obi-Wan, you could have called me."

"You were unreachable last night," Obi-Wan said, annoyed. "Mace Windu even noticed. You're being a fool, Anakin."

Anakin didn't respond, but sat down in a chair across from Obi-Wan and leaned forward on his arms. "So, Dooku. Has he given up the Sith Lord?"

"Of course not," Obi-Wan said, shrugging. "But things are...interesting. I'll take you down to see him, but...what has you in a fit this morning?"

Anakin shook his head three times, quickly. "Oh, nothing nearly as important. But interesting, is all. Just interesting."

Obi-Wan waited. Anakin liked the drama of things, liked to be the first one with a good story.

"The _Republic_ early morning holos found out," Anakin said, leaning forward with wide eyes, "that a Hapan princess has arrived onplanet."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brows. The _Republic_ was a reputable source, but the very idea seemed ludicrous. "You're sure?"

"They found some sort of communication from the Queen Mother to the Alderaanean consulate, asking them to welcome her daughter in her time of mourning." Anakin sat back, a satisfied expression on his face. He'd been fascinated by the Hapans since before Obi-Wan knew him, first as the wealthy, powerful, pseudo-mythological creatures they seemed to be during his childhood, and then as the Jedi-feuding isolationists everyone on Coruscant saw them as.

"Mourning?" Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. A message to the Alderaanean consulate. Bail could confirm that easily. He typed a quick message to Bail-_Hapes?_-while Anakin launched into the story of the tragic death of a Hapan prince and the political ramifications of the Hapan Queen Mother moving a politically strategic daughter to Coruscant in such unstable times.

"I think they're trying to gain a foothold here," Anakin said, crossing his arms. "Trying to see where our weaknesses are so they can cement some power in the Republic."

"Doesn't fit with them being isolationist for so long," Obi-Wan said, "but I suppose it's possible."

His receiver buzzed. A message from Bail-_Yes. Curiouser and curiouser._ Obi-Wan felt unsettled. He looked up at Anakin. "Bail confirms it. I'll go meet with him today after he's had a chance to evaluate her. Send a memo to the Council in case they haven't already heard. We'll probably want to set up some sort of low-level meeting with her as a sign of good faith, not that the Queen Mother will take it as such." He shook his head. "Too many odd things happening in such a short time. I don't like it."

Anakin raised his eyebrows. "Other than Dooku coming in with-I assume, since you're not in the hospital wing-little resistance?"

"No resistance," Obi-Wan said. "Someone took away his ability to use the Force. We're trying to track them down."

Anakin's face grew still, his thoughts settling and churning in the air between them. "No one can do that. Someone like that-we'll need a lot of our best people looking for him."

"Or her," Obi-Wan corrected absently. Anakin's gaze sharpened.

"You know who it is?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I met someone. Someone-a woman I cannot fit into any of our normal categories. No Force ability-I checked. But the Force keeps prompting me back to her."

Anakin grinned. "I like these kinds of disturbances in the Force. More mysterious, a lot less violent."

"You like violence."

Anakin looked insulted. "No. I'm just good at it."

Obi-Wan smirked at him. "Fine. Oh, and one thing you could be better at? Making sure you have a good alibi whenever you decide to go over to the Nubian apartments for the night."

Anakin froze. Obi-Wan waved a hand at him.

"I didn't tell. I'm just saying. I don't want to know. And you definitely don't want the Council to know. I need you here, Anakin. We all do. Don't do anything stupid."

Anakin's mouthed moved a couple times, as though he was trying out different words, but no sound came out. Obi-Wan felt a bit grim. Everything was too strange. The whole world was upside down, again, after two years of pointless war. And somehow, he felt as though the answer was just out of his reach, lingering just on the edge of his awareness, waiting to be discovered. Something was happening. He just needed to figure out what it was.


	10. Chapter 10

Elan

Coruscant took her breath away. After leaving the Net cafe, Elan followed the navs the Queen Mother had given her, up, up, up, past shacks built one upon the other in the lower levels where the drudges of every species scraped by, then to soaring metal mansions on the higher levels, where those around her walked with aloof purpose, as though unaware that there was a whole other world below. There were more humans in the upper levels, she noticed, feeling uneasy. Already Palpatine's invisible puppeteering was pushing non-humans to the fringes. The first breaths of too many genocides to count.

Palpatine's reign had always been so distant, a footnote in her family's history. Her father rarely talked about those days, but Aunt Leia had told her some, and likely knew more. Luke had spent his growing-up years barely touched by the Empire, and then after that at war with them; Leia had grown up in the Imperial Senate, had seen the poison Emperor Palpatine spread throughout the galaxy. He'd declared humans superior and relegated other species to menial jobs in his administration. Human ambassadors practically ran the alien planets under his rule.

Elan felt chills run up her arms. She had been brought to the brink, had landed in the midst of his early days. She could save her family, perhaps. Save Anakin? So many Skywalkers had gone to the darkness and come back stronger; Anakin himself was no exception, but what if she could pull him back before everything went to hell? And she needed to find her grandmother, whoever she was, and protect her and the infant Luke and Leia. Were they born yet? She ran the dates through her head, trying to remember how old her father was. Likely no. But soon. Within months, surely.

But could she do more? Could she shift the balance of this moment? Palpatine had no idea what an enemy walked his streets, an enemy who knew all his weaknesses and could overpower his strengths. Could she do it? She was only one person, but then again, so was he. And he had taken over the galaxy with but a few trusted allies and many manipulated followers. She didn't have the advantage of time as he'd had, but she did have the advantage of...knowing. The thought would not be dislodged from her mind.

Sleek ships glided past her as she climbed the Hill to the Senate. This landmark she knew from her history books; it was one of the few images of Coruscant that still lingered in the New Republic's consciousness. Atop a high point in the city, the Senate loomed, a dome of bright silver in the sun's first light. The statue of the ancient gods of the Republic, which had been rescued during the war and now sat in the middle of New Coruscant's flowering landscape, was dwarfed by the towers of steel and glass surrounding it. She approached, feeling self-conscious, wondering who she was to meet and how they would recognize her.

But as it turned out, it was she who recognized him.

"Senator Organa?" she asked, startled, the words slipping out unbidden. Bail Organa was younger than the pictures Aunt Leia had, but still steady, calming, as she'd always imagined. Bail Organa was an invisible presence in the Solo home, an unspoken influence in all Aunt Leia said and did. A man of integrity and strength. Elan felt as though she wanted to weep from relief.

"Princess Chume." He extended a hand, inclined his hand. "I was hoping you would make yourself known. Your mother did not precisely tell me how I was to know you."

His expression was stoic, and Elan felt her initial hopes waver. Of course Bail, the head of the Aldaraanean consulate, would distrust a Hapan. Everyone here was going to distrust a Hapan.

Bail motioned her forward and silently led her up the wide avenue lined with rows of gleaming mansions, not as towering as the surrounding buildings, but magnificent in design if not in scale. So this was how the wealthy of Coruscant had lived. Elan wondered what these mansions looked like now—then?—before? She tripped over the thought for a few moments. It was easy to accept things as they were, as long as she didn't think about it. As long as she didn't wonder what was going to happen, how she was going to get home. If she ever was going to get home.

"I—your mother indicated that the home is fully staffed, awaiting your arrival." Bail looked hesitant. "I must confess, it…I was surprised to find Hapes had such a ready presence here, unknown to any of us."

"Likely not unknown to all." The words slipped out. Elan thought, _I sound glib._ She didn't mean to be glib. She just assumed Palpatine kept a close eye on any presence that might threaten his rule. Hapes probably didn't concern anyone else in the Republic; from what she remembered of their history, during this time, and most times, they were isolationist, kept to themselves, were a threat but only if threatened. And no one in the Republic would have cause to threaten them, but Palpatine.

"Likely not," Bail agreed, though he may have just decided to be agreeable. _Don't mess with the Hapan. _Obviously.

Windows were opening above them; some were stirring in the early-morning light, though likely just servants. Elan had grown up around the upper classes. She knew their habits, and doubted it varied no matter the decade.

What was she going to do? Now that the immediate concern of food and housing and some sort of status in this time was dealt with, the question was getting harder to ignore. Search for a way home, but where to begin? And while doing that, try to, oh, stop Palpatine and save Anakin and keep the Republic intact. But how? She couldn't do it on her own. Already there were people here, working behind the scenes. Already, she knew, the seeds of the Rebellion were sowed, by people like Bail. But how to reach them? How to get them to trust her?

She looked at Bail. He was the logical one to start with. He didn't seem overtly hostile, but that was certainly not a ringing endorsement. And she couldn't lead with "hey, I'm your adopted daughter's niece come from the future to help you" unless she wanted him to think she was crazy. So how to get around it?

Well. There was the obvious route, helpfully laid out for her by the Queen Mother's initiative in placing her trust, minimal as it was, in Aldaraan.

"When we get into the house," Elan murmured, stepping close to Bail, trying to strike a secretive tone, "can we be assured it's without…surveillance?"

Bail slowed his pace, as though ready to stop in his tracks, but caught himself and kept moving.

"As you said"—his tone was wary—"you are likely not unknown to all. But…I suspect the house is safe. Your mother, after all, would have tasked her staff to scour the place for bugs."

"That is sufficient," Elan said, her mind racing as she tried to plot out the most reasonable path forward. One that would make sense, that wouldn't seem suspicious. Or not as suspicious.

They rounded the corner, and Bail pointed toward a stately building with an impossibly white façade. "Across the street from the Aldaraanian Consulate," he said. "And I never knew."

It was grudging respect in his voice, maybe, or perhaps just a grudge. His presence in the Force indicated wariness, a sense of muted concern. He was worried, but also determined not to be worried. None of that was particularly helpful.

Bail was waiting her to take the lead now that he'd pointed out the house. Her house. She tried to act confident, stepped forward across the stone street, and placed her hand on the cool metal door. There was a slight hissing noise as the door slid open.

Waiting on the other side, as though he'd been standing there since receiving whatever call Ni'Kornish had made, was a slender, pale man with white hair. His face was unlined, but for a few small wrinkles around his eyes. In Hapan terms, that made him in his older years, though Bail looked more world-weary. The man bowed, deep and slow. "Princess," he said, his voice resonant, rich.

She placed a hand over her heart in the standard respectful greeting for one of the serving station. "I thank you for your readiness. You are a credit to your Queen."

There was a brief twitch around his mouth—pride, she recognized. She'd said the right thing. How long had he been waiting here, in this place, quietly, faithfully, for the day his system needed him?

"I am Maris," he said. "Welcome to your home. May I introduce your staff?"

Elan stepped over the threshold, inclined her head slightly. "If you will grant me a moment with Senator Organa, I will be grateful for introductions shortly."

Maris bowed slightly, gestured to the left, a grand salon with huge windows overlooking the street, and closed the heavy doors behind them.

Bail looked wonderingly at the furniture, the walls, the doors. "This place is…"

"Hapans prefer the older styles," Elan said, sinking gratefully into a chair by the fireplace. "The amenities will be modern, of course, but hidden behind the appearance of antiquity."

Bail sat across from her, looking uneasy.

"I assume my coming here will be viewed by few as a neutral thing," Elan said.

Bail seemed to consider his response a moment, then simply nodded.

Elan continued, feeling wildly that she was probably going to make this whole thing up as she went along, and hoping he'd buy it. "My mother-in-law"—correcting the "mother" thing was important, key to hopefully buying a little trust—"does not precisely have control of my movements. I…I assume she told you the circumstances of my coming."

"Your husband." For the first time, Bail's expression relaxed slightly. "I am sorry, Princess."

She swallowed. _Focus_. She'd had the luxury of grief back home, but here-here she had to be sharp, and that meant she couldn't be knocked down every time she was reminded.

"Thank you," she said, and her voice shook only a little. "It...it has been very hard." She stopped herself there. Going further would lead her into the darkness again.

Bail's gaze had become gentle. There he was, the father Aunt Leia loved. Compassion, even for a probable enemy.

Elan looked down, clenched her fists on her lap, looked back up. "I want to help," she said simply.

Bail was nonplussed. "Help…?"

"We know," Elan said. "We know about the Sith Lord. The Queen Mother is no friend of the Jedi, but the Sith are wild and unpredictable. Hapes cannot afford for the galaxy to slide into chaos."

Bail was silent as he gave her a long, measured look. The Force sang with his skepticism. "So...you have come...to help the Republic."

Elan took a deep breath. "I have come to escape. To stop thinking about...about Dwen-and my family-" That was too much. She refocused. "I have come, and the Queen Mother has asked me to do this. She did not send me here. I came alone. She's making the best with what she has. I am not her puppet. I was not born on Hapes, did not grow up on Hapes-"

At this, Bail's eyes widened. "Are you trying to tell me you are an ally?"

"Inelegantly, yes." Elan was exasperated, mostly with herself. "I know you have no reason to trust me. But I want to be useful. And I know things. I have information, information the Rebellion can use."

As soon as she said _Rebellion_, Bail became rigid. His voice was cold. "There is no Rebellion."

"Of course there's a Rebellion," Elan said impatiently. "You, and Mon Mothma for sure. I don't know who else, so stop panicking-but I know this. Believe me, if I was on the other side I would simply go to Palpatine. But he cannot win." Unexpected anger surged through her. "I will not let him."

Bail's voice shook. "The Chancellor is on our side."

"The Chancellor," Elan said, steely, "is a Sith Lord who intends to take over the Republic."

Bail took an involuntary gulp of air, as though she'd knocked the wind out of him. He shook his head, rapidly, for a few seconds. "Th-that cannot be," he stammered. "He is greedy, and driven for power, certainly, but-"

"He orchestrated the Separatist resistance," Elan said, straining to remember her history. The Clone Wars. The Separatist uprising that instigated them. "He commissioned the clones. He's playing all of you."

Bail stood abruptly, agitated. "You cannot know this. You are trying to undermine us. No one person could do such a thing, be the cause of both sides of a war-I cannot-I-I must go." He bowed quickly and swept out.

The front door hissed open, then closed. Elan slumped back in the chair. Of course it sounded ridiculous. Of course he'd dismiss her out of hand.

The sound of footsteps came down the hall, and Maris peered around the corner of the doorway.

"It did not go well, I take it?" he asked.

His commiserating tone almost brought a smile to Elan's lips. She put her hand to her forehead.

"No. No, it did not."


	11. Chapter 11

Obi-Wan

"Our top priority should be finding the Sith Lord," Mace Windu said. "Anything we should do should be with that end in mind…"

The few members of the Council who were onplanet sat in the soaring tower that looked over the rest of Coruscant. Obi-Wan clenched and unclenched his right fist. They'd been going at this for hours, debating how to handle Dooku, how to handle whoever had disabled him, how to handle the unknown Sith Lord. And, like most Council meetings, they'd gotten nowhere. Anakin looked half asleep.

There was a cautious knock on the outer door. Mace looked annoyed at being interrupted as a nervous young Knight peeked in.

"Forgive me, Masters, but...well...Master Kenobi, Senator Organa is here. He says it's an emergency."

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. He and Bail were in regular contact, but for him to come to the Temple was highly irregular. He glanced at the other Masters.

Mace was nodding vigorously. "He's been meeting with the Hapan princess, correct? Yes-yes, go see what news he has. We'll keep strategizing here..."

Anakin gave Obi-Wan a despairing look. _Save me_, he mouthed.

Bail was staring out the window in Obi-Wan's chambers.

"We can't be heard here, right?" he asked, whirling around, then, without waiting for an answer, "I need to see Dooku. I-I need to ask him something. It's important. It could be nothing. But it could...it could mean everything. Obi-Wan. It could mean everything."

"Slow down." Obi-Wan lifted his hand. "What are you talking about?"

Bail put his head in his hands, nervous energy radiating off him. "Hapes supposedly has intelligence. She wants us to trust her. She-if she's right-but she can't be right-but Dooku could confirm-Obi-Wan, this is-"

Obi-Wan grabbed Bail by the shoulders. "Calm down. I've never seen you like this. What did this princess say?"

"I need to see Dooku," Bail repeated. He looked up at Obi-Wan, wild-eyed.

Obi-Wan stepped back. "All right," he said slowly.

According to the guards, Dooku had been facing the same wall in his cell since he'd been brought in. Without the Force, he seemed disinclined to even try to escape. Obi-Wan led Bail down the back way. The Council didn't seem to know what to do with Bail's involvement in the first place, so Obi-Wan figured it was best to keep them in the dark about...whatever this was.

Al-Kai and Samara, two young Knights, stood guard outside the room, implacable, taking their job very seriously. They bowed when they saw Obi-Wan approaching, looking ever-so-wary at Bail's presence.

"It's all right," Obi-Wan said. "He was the one who brought him in. We have a few follow-up questions." Samara moved to the right to let him pass, but Al-Kai shook his head.

"Do you have authorization from the Council?" he asked sternly. Obi-Wan sighed and just stared at him. After a few seconds of shifting back and forth, Al-Kai bowed his head and stepped aside.

Dooku sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the gray concrete in front of him. He briefly glanced back as Obi-Wan and Bail entered, then looked back at the wall. Bail remained silent until the door hissed shut behind them.

"The Sith Lord," Bail said. "Palpatine."

Obi-Wan felt the sudden chill of shock at the name. Dooku slowly stood and turned to look at them.

What was Bail saying? That Palpatine was working with the Sith Lord? That didn't make any sense-Palpatine was against the Separatists, against the Sith…

"Who told you that?" Dooku said hollowly.

"An intelligence source," Bail said crisply, though there was still a tremor in his voice. "Tell me, Dooku. Is Palpatine the Sith Lord?"

Obi-Wan felt his legs go weak and leaned back against the wall. _This_ was the Hapan princess's intelligence? But-what insanity would lead Hapes to claim such a thing? Such an unbelievable, horrific thing?

Dooku took a deep breath and looked up. His jaw was clenched. "The voice. The voice knew. The one who did this to me knew. Did they find you? Can you make them fix this?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, blinked, tried to think straight.

"Are you saying it's true?" he demanded. "Dooku, what purpose-why-how does that make any logical sense at all?"

Bail's trembling had stilled. "He orchestrated the Separatist resistance," he said, mechanically. "He commissioned the clones. He's playing all of us." He shook his head. "She wasn't lying. I don't understand. Why would she tell us this?"

Dooku reached out, pleadingly. "Please. Please-send her here. Tell her to return the Force to me. I will do whatever she asks."

Bail laughed curtly. "Our source is not the one you seek. Believe me."

Obi-Wan remained silent. A Hapan princess suddenly onplanet, just as a strange new Force user emerged?

"Tell no one else," he heard himself say. The Council would not believe this information, not from a Hapan. Obi-Wan wasn't even sure he did. What if Dooku was just playing along, forcing them to distrust one another?

But what if he wasn't?

They left Dooku, and Obi-Wan walked Bail toward the exit.

"I need to tell the Council something about the princess," he said, because he could think of nothing else to say.

"You won't tell them this?" Bail stopped and stared at him.

Obi-Wan put a hand to his forehead. "Bail...I don't know who to trust right now. I...I don't have faith they'd make the right decision. Gods, I don't faith _we'll_ make the right decision of what to do with this...but…"

Bail shook his head. "Tell them she is holding her cards close to the chest. She is not telling me much about her motives for being here, only claiming her grief as the reason. And that she came without telling the Queen Mother, that the Queen Mother is scrambling to know what to do with her now that she's here."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "Is that true?"

Bail shrugged. "It's what she said. I...I am inclined to believe her, after this." He pressed two fingers to his forehead, squinting his eyes closed. "I must go see her again. I must talk to her about this."

"What did you say when she told you?" Obi-Wan found himself dwelling for the first time on what she might be like, this Hapan princess no one had known existed, and yet who had stepped into the most dangerous and crucial moment in the Republic's long history.

"I don't think I said anything comprehensible," Bail said, bringing him back. "I just...left. I couldn't think straight."

It took a lot to rattle a stalwart politician like Bail Organa. But Obi-Wan supposed something like this would do it. Even now, he found himself feeling like the last ten minutes had happened to someone else, as though he were watching from a distance and wondering what these two men were going to do with a revelation that could shake their entire galaxy.

_Tell her to return the Force to me._

So far, the only two people who apparently knew about this...supposed connection between Palpatine and the Sith Lord, were a Hapan princess and that mysterious Force user who had attacked Dooku. Of course it was most likely that both knew separately, through separate means, and yet…

The girl's face seemed to hover somewhere in his vision. He replayed the interaction over for what felt like the thousandth time.

She'd been calling home. _My husband's family_, she said. _Mine is hard to reach._

It was impossible, of course. His mind was just trying to make connections between all these bewildering events.

"Obi-Wan?" Bail was staring at him. Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly.

"I need to meet her," he said. "Now. I have a bad feeling about this."


	12. Chapter 12

Elan

The house was luxurious, and Maris a pleasant, helpful, and mildly sarcastic presence in the midst of staff that mostly kept their distance. Elan had started skimming through the recent holos, Maris standing just over her shoulder, offering insight on the state of the Republic.

"The war has been going on four years now," he said. "We've watched the Chancellor amass more power for himself in the midst of it. I suspect the Republic is in for a military coup, if this goes on much longer."

"Orchestrated by the Chancellor?" she asked mildly. Maris nodded.

"But of course. It surprises me that these people do not seem to see it, but they're very trusting of their leaders, it seems. He plays himself as the hero, the savior. Even the Jedi go along with him."

The word _Jedi_ rolled off his tongue with less animosity than she would have expected. She glanced up at him, and he shrugged. "They're not all bad. I've met a few through my Senate connections."

"Shades of gray. So are we all," Elan said, offering him a smile to let him know she appreciated his candor. He would be useful, this one. Well connected, with eyes open to what was happening around him, and not blindingly Hapan in his thinking.

A deep chime rang through the house, and Maris looked up, brows furrowed. "Someone is here. Perhaps that Senator has thought better and come back."

"Perhaps he's sent someone to arrest me," Elan said, half joking.

Maris shook his head. "No one will get in if that is so. And there are escape routes through the basement."

Ah, the Hapans. Ever prepared for the worst.

Maris disappeared down the long hall. She heard the indiscernible rumble of men's voices, then footsteps as Maris came back toward her.

"It is the Senator," he said, eyebrows raised. "And a Jedi. Do you wish to see them, or shall I send them away?"

And a Jedi. Was that good news, or bad? Perhaps he'd come to arrest her after all. Perhaps Jedi arrested the dangerous ones in the old days.

But she'd just come with intel. More likely it was a Jedi in on the whole Rebellion thing, a more perceptive presence to test her insane claim.

"Let them in," she said, shutting down the holo screen.


	13. Chapter 13

Obi-Wan

The Hapan mansion was unlike any he'd seen, at least inside. The sleek metal and glass of modern architecture had been shunned in favor of dark woods, vaulted ceilings, antique fixtures. Either this place had been here a very long time, or the Hapans were resolute in shunning the rest of society.

The white-haired man-Maris, Bail had said-had eyed him skeptically before going to speak to the princess. Of course, it was going to raise red flags, a Jedi visiting a Hapan without invitation. But he'd come back to the door and simply said, "She will see you."

Bail's nervous energy had dispelled, mellowed by something more grim. He already believed her. He was just trying to figure out what to do with her, this ally who could not be trusted.

Maris gestured them into an anteroom. Bail entered first, and Obi-Wan inclined his head as he followed, trying to strike an unthreatening pose.

"Princess," Bail said, "forgive me. You were right."

Obi-Wan lifted his eyes and felt the air turn to glass.

She stared past Bail as though he did not exist, those pale blue eyes wide. Obi-Wan tried to swallow, tried to think, tried to tell himself he'd expected this, but gods how could he have expected this? The Force had pulled all these things together, but what insanity was happening here?

She was the same, and different. Stronger, more resolute. Dressed in fine, draping things rather than the rough peasant's fabric of the previous day. Hair back in careful braids and curls, fine stones glinting in between. Trappings. He saw her more clearly today. She'd been more herself last night, for all the hiding she'd done.

Bail looked from one to the other, clearly confused.

"Master Kenobi," she said, nodding her head slowly.

"Elan," he said, the name slipping out before he remembered he should probably stick to the more formal _Princess Chume_.

She smiled, and it was a child's smile, quick, pleased, then gone.

"What's going on?" Bail, of course, was aghast.

"Master Kenobi was kind enough to pay for my call to Hapes last night." The princess smiled again. This time it crinkled the corners of her eyes as she looked at Obi-Wan, as though they were both in on a joke. "I'm afraid it was a larger bill than I planned, sir. I can pay you back now."

Obi-Wan shook his head faintly. "It was the Rebellion's money. Feel free to give it to Bail."

Bail gave him a furious look. _Rebellion_, he'd said so casually. But she already knew. He could see it in her eyes. He could sense it.

He could sense her more clearly today. She was a mild presence in the Force, nothing special. What was it Ki-Adi-Mundi had said? Something about hiding Force ability?

Gods.

Had she hidden it completely last night, and moderated it today? That took skill beyond even most Masters.

_Protect her_, a voice said. It rippled through the Force, unfamiliar and familiar all at once. It was the same thing he'd sensed last night, but more clearly now.

"So you've confirmed my intel?" she asked, with forced lightness. She sat down, and Bail and Obi-Wan followed.

"We have," Bail said, still nonplussed. "It is...unbelievable. How did you uncover it?"

She shrugged. "He's less careful about covering his tracks the further he gets from Coruscant."

Lie. Her lies were just a hair too casual, he realized.

She couldn't be trusted, he knew that.

_Protect her_, the voice said.

Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to think more clearly. "We need to be able to prove it to the others. We need to be able to use it to our advantage-find finances, unravel his plans."

Elan-the princess-whatever he was supposed to call her-pressed her lips together. "His great power is his image. That no one sees him truly. If we can unmask him, Master Kenobi, we'll strip him of that."

Truth. She was firmly with them. She wanted Palpatine undone. And she was right.

"Call me Obi-Wan," he said, meeting those pale eyes with a resolution he did not feel. "And perhaps so. But how?"

She closed her eyes briefly. "Not sure. I'll come up with something."

Truth. She was highly capable, this one. More than it made sense for a mere princess to be.

"I-" Bail suddenly reached down. His holophone was buzzing. He glanced at it. "Gods," he muttered. "It's Palpatine. He's calling an emergency session."

Elan leaned forward. "I need to meet with him," she said. "Can you arrange it?"

"I'm not your errand boy." Bail was more irritated than normal. Obi-Wan almost laughed.

She grinned suddenly, a wild, friendly thing. "Come, Senator, I know. But I also know he needs to think I'm no real threat, that I'm somewhat on his side, and you're the best connection I have to get there."

Something between lie and truth. She was planning something.

"The Jedi will want to meet with you too," Obi-Wan said.

Elan looked over at him, her smile faltering.

"I must go," Bail said distractedly. "I will see what I can do about the meeting. We must convene later," he said to Obi-Wan, "to come up with some sort of strategy." He shook his head, looking back at Elan. "You are a wild card, Princess. I'm not entirely sure what to do with you."

"No one ever does," she said archly.

Bail bowed quickly and walked out. Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he should follow. He glanced at Elan awkwardly. "I may still call you Elan, I suppose?"

She considered him a moment. "Not in public, of course. It wouldn't do for a Jedi and a Hapan to seem so friendly, Obi-Wan."

She tried out his name as though it were a different language, a bit wonderingly.

Should he ask her? What if he was wrong? What if discovery was what made her turn on someone?

Prudence would wait. Watch.

"True," he said, and smiled. She smiled back, and something, briefly, charged in the air between them. It nearly stole his breath.

"So," he said, looking briefly down at his hands. "You have a madcap plan to convince Palpatine you're on his side."

Elan shook her head. "I haven't decided, if I'm honest."

She was being honest. The only lie had been her confidence in the plan.

"I think," she continued, "that Palpatine likes to feel as though he has all the information. Knowledge is power. And if he feels he understands me, understands my reasons for being here, complex and nonsensical as they are, I'll be less of a threat. And if I'm no fan of the Jedi…"

"Ah," Obi-Wan said, "so you don't want to meet with them."

She tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "What do you think? If I'm trying to get him to let his guard down, would that help or hurt?"

She was truly asking his advice. In a sideways fashion, he felt he'd known her much longer than twenty-four hours. She was more comfortable with him than made any sense.

"It would hurt," he said. "I mean, as far as Palpatine goes. A Sith would find kinship with anyone who hates their enemies. But alienating the Jedi so early… I fear it could cause complications further on, when we may need them to support the Rebellion." He shook his head. "But a low-stakes meeting in which you are distant and cold wouldn't help much either. And you'd have to do that to preserve Palpatine's trust."

She nodded. "Very well. Then I shall make them angry." She stopped, and that wild smile played around the edges of her lips. "Although Jedi don't get angry, do they?"

She was teasing him. Teasing about the Jedi. It took him a moment to figure out why that made him pause. _She has no context for the Jedi. She should have no knowledge of the Jedi. So why does she feel as though she knows us?_

The Force pulsed for a moment-for a brief second, he felt alarm light up around her. "I mean," she said, too quickly, "I've heard the Jedi avoid all emotion. I suppose anger would be such a one."

Prudence.

Wait.

_Protect her._

She was trying to hide.

He forced a smile. "Yes, that is in the Code, at least. We are careful to avoid anger. And careful to avoid anything that could distract us from the Light."

Her eyebrows furrowed together slightly. This was news to her, or at least something that made her curious. He found himself watching her a little too long as she considered her next words, her lashes sweeping down, a stray strand of hair curling against her cheek. _Gods she's lovely._ The thought came unbidden, and he felt the blood pound through his veins more rapidly. He focused on his breathing.

"What distracts a Jedi?" she asked finally, her eyes meeting his.

Breathe.

"Attachment," he said evenly. "We are brought to the Temple very young. We do not know our families of birth. We are careful in our relationships."

Her eyes widened. "No family?" She shook her head. "No-what about friendships? All relationships are complicated, after all. Surely it's not possible to eliminate emotion simply by staying away from others."

Obi-Wan felt the word _Anakin_ on his tongue, but it felt unwise. _You do not know her,_ he reminded himself.

And yet.

"No, I don't think it's possible, not for all," he said slowly. "Some seem to be able to guard themselves, to remain resolute. Truthfully, that is not my strength. I have friends, and I do-I cannot eliminate all feeling in that. I get frustrated. I worry. Sometimes I think I even get angry."

He expected her to laugh, as the lines around her eyes squeezed upward into a smile. But the look she gave him was warm, kind, a bit thoughtful. "You are not what I expected," she said, and he wondered what she meant. Not what she expected from a Jedi? And yet her words felt more personal than that, more about him than about the Jedi as a whole. But what would she have expected about him?

"And what should we expect of you?" he asked her. Because that was the question, wasn't it? What role did she really want to play? Or want them to think she would play?

She flattened her palms against the chair. "If I'm honest?" she said, her voice thoughtful. "I want to be useful, but I feel I am groping forward in the dark here. I don't know if I can do what I want to do." She paused. _What do you want to do?_ He held back the words, letting her decision hang in the air.

"I," she said at last, slowly, "am convinced that we are on the brink. That there are...a few key people who have to make the right choices in order for us to have a chance of stopping Palpatine."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. "I don't understand," he said, the words slipping out before he could think them through. He didn't understand. Whose choices could truly impact Palpatine now? The Rebellion was already doing everything it could think of.

She met his eyes, and the air between them was thick with the question. "Now is not the time," she murmured, almost to herself. "Not yet."

_Protect her_, the voice said, more urgently.

_Who are you?_ Obi-Wan wondered, and he wasn't sure if he meant her or the voice.


	14. Chapter 14

Elan

He'd been warm. Honest. And...something else. There was a bond there, a Force connection. It was something she so rarely found outside her family. But Obi-Wan Kenobi was practically family, right? At least in her father's eyes.

She felt unsettled.

He'd touched her hand before he left, bowing slightly, his eyes wrinkling in the corners with a wry smile. He suspected her Force ability, that much she could tell. He was perceptive, this one. She'd have to tread carefully.

But she didn't want to. Why didn't she want to?

He needed to know about Anakin. More than her, he could actually make a difference, maybe, if he knew. There was a friendship there. She was sure of it. Anakin was one of the friends he'd referenced, the one he worried about, got angry with. Anakin was enough to make this Jedi bend the Code. And perhaps Obi-Wan was the same for him. Maybe, just maybe, Anakin would listen, if Obi-Wan knew what to say.

But how could she tell him? How could she explain knowing any of this, explain knowing what Anakin needed?

The Force whispered that this man was safe. Everything else in her rebelled against the idea.

The holo buzzed, lighting up with a message from Bail Organa. _Princess Chume_-formal; this message was meant for spying eyes-_I hope you are settling in well. I do not wish to overburden you as you adjust to your new home, but our friend the Chancellor wishes to offer you his greetings. If you are willing to meet him, he would like to welcome you this evening at his home._

It had been her idea. All of this had been her idea. And yet every decision seemed to only have full weight once there was no turning back. The sudden reality of facing Palpatine-the most powerful Sith the galaxy had ever known, the man who single-handedly took down the Republic, and who would have remained Emperor forever had her father not come along-made her feel a bit shaky.

"Maris," she called out, "I will be meeting with the Chancellor this evening."

Maris entered the room silently, as though he'd been standing just outside. The arched brows communicated concern, skepticism that he would not voice.

"I know it seems unwise," she said.

His lips thinned.

"You may speak freely," she said, a bit exasperated. "I need you to talk to me, even if you disagree."

The barest glimmer of a smile. "It is unwise," he said. "I assume you are doing all of this for a reason, but truthfully, Princess, I do not understand why you are putting yourself so squarely in the middle of the coming conflict. The Queen Mother surely did not ask this of you."

Elan took a deep breath. "She did not." She paused, thinking. He was Hapan, and clearly from the upper classes, which meant that he knew what no one else here did: that she was no daughter-in-law of Ni'Korish. Another decision to make. Another precipice. "Did the Queen Mother tell you the...details of our connection?"

He raised his chin slightly, looked thoughtful, then grave. "_A'tana'la pe ta'tola shei,_" he said.

_The spirits of our descendents walk among us._

He'd known this whole time. Ni'Korish trusted him implicitly.

_You have to trust someone,_ she told herself.

"Yes," she said quietly. "My husband's father was Isolder, son of Ta'a Chume. I do not know how I came to be here, but I do know what is about to happen. And...I am particularly invested in seeing Palpatine defeated."

His eyes narrowed. He was unsurprised by her revelation-Ni'Korish must have already told him. But he was curious. She waited.

"I-" For the first time, he seemed uncertain as to how to proceed. "Princess, I-I should not say this. But I will. You must know that I have sworn to protect you. I will support you in your mission here, for I believe that the wisdom of _ta'tola_ is a gift, sent to us all for such a time. But you should know that I have lived on this planet for fifty years. It is…" He paused, and she saw brief terror in his eyes. She was not the only one standing on a precipice. "Is is more my home than Hapes," he said.

No wonder he was afraid. Those were traitorous words for a Hapan-to admit allegiance to any place other than Hapes. He was trusting her as much as she was trusting him, with the same wild step into mid-air.

It was not an accident, her being here. Every piece had been laid out before her. Even an unasked-for and deeply needed ally such as Maris.

"If you seek to save this place," Maris said softly, "then I swear that I will do anything you ask to help you in that task."

She stood, and placed her left hand on her right arm. She bowed, deep and wordlessly. Maris took a sharp breath, and stood very still.

"You are a princess. You should not bow to one such as me so," he said, shakily.

Elan raised her head, and smiled, feeling freedom, peace, hope. She had abandoned the Force, but it had not abandoned her. Now, as she tentatively reached out again, for the first time in months openly and without hostility, she sensed warmth and direction. "I bow to courage," she said. "I bow to one who is a friend to me in this place. You and I are in this together, Maris." She took his hand, and he met her eyes with relief. "I am royalty by marriage, and I am also a citizen of the Republic," she said. "But above all, I have sworn to protect the vulnerable and oppressed. And I did not expect to find such help in an unfamiliar time."


	15. Chapter 15

Obi-Wan

_Tonight_, Bail told him. This wildest of wild cards, this princess who was hiding so much, was meeting with the Chancellor tonight. Obi-Wan got the encrypted message just before walking into the Council chambers, and it shook him enough to make him stop still. But it was more than that-more than him and his fears and uncertainties. That small, intense voice in the back of his head, the one that was seeming less like instinct and more like a completely different person, was devastated and alarmed at the development. And...angry? He paid attention for a moment. _Why are you angry?_ he found himself asking, wonderingly. He'd known she was planning this.

_Protect her_, said the voice, this time as a rebuke.

_She can handle herself,_ Obi-Wan retorted, and discovered he believed it. Which was odd, wasn't it? If Palpatine was a Sith-and an extraordinarily powerful Sith-who could stand against him alone? Particularly one who, even if she had Force ability, could only be untrained?

_She can handle herself but she is _not safe.

The voice was livid. And terrified. And the realization hit Obi-Wan like a punch in the gut. This was no inner dialogue.

This voice didn't just seem like a completely different person. It was a completely different person. In his head. Talking to him.

_Who _are _you? _Obi-Wan demanded.

The voice didn't answer.

"Master Kenobi," the young Padawan at the door said, urgently. "They're waiting."

Obi-Wan found it hard to focus as he walked into the chamber. Anakin looked peeved. _You've been gone a long time_, he said silently to Obi-Wan, his voice piercing like arrows through his former Master's skull.

That was it, Obi-Wan realized. That was why he hadn't paid much attention to the other voice at first. It seemed familiar, a normal tone in his mind. It reminded him-sideways, not completely, but enough-of Anakin.

_Seven hells and all the gods. What is happening?_

"The Princess Chume," he heard himself saying, "is here against the express wishes of the Queen Mother. She's a daughter-in-law, the wife of a son, still valuable but not as valuable as a daughter, and it seems she has her own mind."

The words, not fully of his own making, pulled him back into the room. Mace leaned forward, intense and interested.

"Her own mind?" Mace asked. "Then perhaps...we could meet with her?"

_Think, Obi-Wan._ His stories were getting hard to keep straight. Was he supposed to have met with her? Would it be more beneficial to make Bail seem like the intermediary?

Then again, if he was the only person among the Jedi whom she was willing to meet with, he could see her again. The Jedi would want him to keep the contact going.

"Bail made the introduction for me today," he said. Truth was best, at least as close to the truth as he could get. Anakin gave him a shocked stare. The other Masters kept their expressions neutral; he realized, pained, that they trusted him, more than he deserved.

"She is, as to be expected, thoroughly Hapan in her perspectives," Obi-Wan said, choosing his words carefully. "I did make overtures to have her come to the Temple and was rejected outright. But…" Here he paused. This was it, the point at which he tested whether their trust would hold. "Masters, I do not understand it, but she did seem intrigued by me. I assume it's because she's seen me in the holos, but I sense that I am still welcome. It is a delicate circumstance, to be sure. But if you are willing, I could see if I can persuade her to withdraw her claws a bit, as it were."

Stony silence. Mace in particular looked unenthused. Anakin looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"Are you saying," Ki-Adi Mundi said, "that she is...er...drawn to you?"

Obi-Wan felt his face getting hot. That was not what he'd intended to communicate. Certainly someone could be intrigued by a Jedi without...attracting. It was not attraction he sensed.

_Sure_, said the voice, shades of Anakin's snark, the foreignness and familiarity unsettling.

"I-I do not know," he stammered. "I only know that she was not as hostile to me as I was expecting."

Yoda held his hands out, a peace-making gesture. "It is not of your doing, Master Kenobi. It is the will of the Force that we have been given such an opportunity." There was a glint in his eyes that Obi-Wan tried to figure out. Mischief? That didn't make any sense.

Mace's head swiveled, and his intense stare at Yoda wasn't hard to read. They weren't on the same page. The Force was saying something to Yoda that it was withholding from Mace.

"Then," Mace said, spreading out his hands, "I suppose we must wait."

It was always unspoken, the end of a Council meeting. But this one felt particularly unresolved. There was grumbling among the Masters as they filed out, and Mace grabbed Anakin by the arm-Anakin shooting Obi-Wan a pleading glance-likely for a conversation about Anakin's ever-increasing absence from the Temple.

In a matter of minutes, Obi-Wan stood in the empty chamber.

Almost empty. Yoda tapped his foot with his cane.

"Sit, Master Kenobi," he said, not unkindly. Obi-Wan sank gratefully into his seat-it had been a long day on his feet, he realized. Yoda sat across from him, legs crossed.

"Hear him too, you do," Yoda said, in a tone so casual it took Obi-Wan a moment to realize what he was talking about.

"The voice." Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "I-you're hearing...him?"

"Him," Yoda said. "Listened closely this last day, I have. Found me last night, he did. Searching, he was."

Obi-Wan felt chastised, though he knew Yoda didn't intend it that way. The voice had been speaking to him all day and he'd dismissed it. If he'd only paid attention, maybe it-he-could have shed light on...whatever in the seven hells was happening.

"Who is he?" he asked, curiously reaching out to the Force. He sensed that vaguely familiar presence in the back of his mind, waiting, silent. He-whoever he was-was listening.

"Know not, do I," Yoda said, closing his eyes briefly. "Tell me, he will not. Tell me what he is searching for, he will not." He opened his eyes. "But focused on this Hapan princess, he is."

Obi-Wan hesitated. "He...he wants me to protect her. She is...making dangerous choices."

Yoda's eyes narrowed, but he was not Mace-he would not press Obi-Wan to tell him more. He had lived long enough to know that he did not need to know everything. In this, Obi-Wan felt he had earned his trust.

"Strong in the Force, he is," Yoda said softly.

_Like Anakin. _"He reminds me of someone," Obi-Wan said carefully. The presence in the back of his mind seemed-pleased?

"Of young Skywalker." Yoda was matter-of-fact. "Yes, I sense it too. Like and unlike. The anger is more under control."

_Lots of practice,_ the voice said, and Obi-Wan knew as Yoda met his eyes that they'd both heard it.

"Who are you?" Obi-Wan asked again, aloud. "We are here to help-just tell us what you want."

_Not all help is helpful,_ the voice said. _This is the deep breath before the plunge. I cannot know what the right move is. Yet. But I am grateful you are allowing me to speak, to be there in spirit if I cannot yet be there in person._

Yet?

Yoda tapped his cane on the floor. "Afraid, you must not be. Trust us at the right time, you must."

Brief silence. Then-_I will. You do not yet know it, but I have much reason to trust._


End file.
